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She wanted to say something, anything, to explain.But there were no words. She watched the figure on the bed. The personthat was her best friend, her closest confidante, her lover. The personthat had so many times shared his deepest desire: that he desperatelywanted to be a woman.Jesse stepped back from the bed. She didn't know what to say. Didn'tknow what to do.The woman on the bed sat up slowly. Blue eyes drilled into Jesse's soul."Is this what you wanted, Jesse?" she asked. "Am I what you wanted?"Jesse sank to her knees. "It was what you wanted," she whispered. "Or Ithought..."A flash of a smile. "That's always your first mistake," the woman said."Thinking."Jesse tried to smile. It was tiny and tremulous, but it was real.Because the words were real. They were so much something that he wouldhave said to her. Spoken in a different voice, but every inflection andintonation was his."Who am I, Jesse?" she asked."You're Jenn," Jesse said. That answer she knew. She had always known.His. “Yes, Sir,” she proudly stated.He slowly pulled a blindfold from his pocket. “Who am I?”“You are my Master.”The world went black as the smooth satin slid into place over my eyes. My scalp prickled where his knuckles brushed across my hair as he secured it. The scent of him surrounded me, God, why do I dissolve into a puddle when I smell his unique scent? Part good clean soap, fresh air and sunshine, it's intoxicating to me.His hand is at my elbow indicating that I should rise, he walked me towards where I knew it stands and my skin prickled with awareness as he guided me into place. I faced the large wooden X, called a St. Andrews Cross, a Crux decussata. I knew from experience that this cross was smooth the wood polished with the sweat and writhing of submissive’s, both male and female, new or experienced, we all used its solid presence for a moments rest. How many of us stood just as I was now, heart thudding in our ears, so excited and anxious to show the depth of our trust. His.
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